"Nicki Minaj Diss"
See when you say shit like, you killed every rap bitch in the building,
A real lyrical bitch get mad and gotta go in on your dumb ass. Like this, okay!
Ok, I was on the mutherfuckin Youtube,
Had my little nephew, trying to find 'em Blues Clues,
Then I seen something about a new york rap bitch,
Told em hold tight, I just had to click that shit.
Then I'm like what? My shit must got a virus. This is not a rap bitch, this is Miley Cyrus,
Must be something wrong 'cause the speakers still blastin'
But she on the second verse is still not saying shit.
Then I'm like oh my shit acting right, it's just this bitch simply not rapping right. See I was laying low ya'll – I was on my trap shit. Putting it off, I'll get back to the rap shit, I'm a let em, simmer the hit em with the fire. But I ain't know the need was this muther fuckin dire I ain't know ya'll was listening to these fakin ass birds and shit, I ain't know they was making up words and shit.
But it's cool, we rollin up the black trucks, we ridin out, first stop gon' be, that slut, fuck five stars, tell em Keys is a galaxy, the Rap game's hungry, tell em that I'm calories, I'm sneezin at these bitches, fake chickens is an allergy. I don't get gifts, niggas put me on the salary, now who is gonna pop off, go hard, not soft, I used your last mixed tape to wipe my niece snot off. I am an infection. How you gonna stop it? I'm all up in your blood stream, no antibiotics, they like Keys drop it, I'm like naw, pop shit. Swagger is galactic. I'm a need a rocket. If bitches are responding, then I think they shouldn't. Leave there brains more gelatinous than banana pudding, but see, I ain't gonna talk about it, Cops gon draw some chalk about it,
These birds ain't about shit, they just gon' Skuawk about it.
If you wanna try me, you know where to find me.
I be in my den eating bitches where the lions be,
I saw the come up, bitch I never felt ya!
Your a Harajuku Barbie then I'm gonna melt ya.
She sounds stupid, who the fuck talks like that?
You not hard, you get killed round theses parts like that.
Fuck tryin to get shine off ya name. I'm a muther fuckin bully,
I ain't worried about the fame. But, I don't see another rap bitch around the pick on. You say you plastic, perfect shit to shit on
I'm speaking for the hood they said you whack. I'm sorry,
I'm a grown ass women what I need with a Barbie?
But when I did play with toys it was Nines and Glocks.
Wasn't no Polly in my pocket, I was totin' them rocks.
And when them boys tried to play, I'm like no you dumb,
I was chasing big shit they money was too young. If you think about poppin, I will smash you stop! Ya bars is inexistent like them gats you got.
And ya shit sound faker, then that ass you got! I'm Keys what good is that getting latches locked.
When you thought that you killed every bitch in the spot
Keys was in the parking lot loading the glock.
When you came out the door finished gluing your weave in
Keys ran up on that ass bitch you ain't leaving!
Like it's so serious! These bitches is so whack, that real lyrical bitches are coming for you bitches! Now I just made more sense then she did in like all of her mixtapes! Hahahah! Keys, Bodymore bitch, we in here!
[Thanks to Taylor Noelle (firstname.lastname@example.org) for these lyrics]
[Thanks to Lamis Perez, De'Shaun Stewart, b for correcting these lyrics]
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